Gatsby's American Dream
by Kalsypher
Summary: After my mother died, I had to fly back to the States to find my father. The taxi man dropped me off in front of what could have been a castle. Turns out, I'm Bruce Wayne's kid and now I'm in charge of Wayne Enterprise because he won't pull his head out of his ass. I'm going to change Gotham City. Unfortunately, it's going to change me as well. BlakexOC
1. Some Tragedy

Nearly one million teen girls get pregnant each year. Nearly thirty thousand people die in car accidents each year. My ole lady just happened to fall in both categories. So, for the first time in twenty years, I had to go to my old man for financial support. Not that he didn't help. Ma lived a good life, to the point of taking advantage of him. I never met him, she wouldn't allow it. But I was in Gotham City now, heading to some unknown destination.

I had to admit, I was a little on edge about this massive city. I came from a large city, but this place was practically a state all by itself. After I had been in this taxi for ten minutes, I began to squirm. I would have gladly taken the bus. The phone call I got told me to bring nothing, that my clothes and necessities would be provided when I arrived, but I didn't listen. My old lady married a rich banjaxed git, and with my child support, she bought diamonds, gold, and luxury cars.

My ole lady was a European gold digger, but she had custody over me which kept me on the Green Isle until my flight to the States. Though I had asked many times to visit the legendary Gotham City, Ma refused to go. Vincent, my step father, kicked me out after my ole lady died. He tolerated me, but when Ma died, I was officially kicked out of the house.

The unfortunate events brought me to Gotham City. I was going to meet a man I had never met and call him 'Da', then live in a place I was supposed to call 'home', and I would somehow have to start over here in this melancholy city. Grey skyscrapers reached into the grey sky. Only yellow taxis flew by at a speed that made my head spin. I frequently got car sick, which was unfortunate in this city. Constant speeds and scary braking from these bloody chancers was awful.

The city began to fade to a more secluded road that continued on until a forest came into view as well as a large mansion. My jaw dropped some when the taxi came to a stop. "Here you are, miss."

I opened the door, still staring dumbly at the large place. "T-thanks," I stuttered as he picked up my suitcases from the trunk and put them on the ground. I reached into my pocket, but he stopped me. "No need."

I watched the taxi drive away then turned my attention back to the mansion in front of me. Scratch mansion. This was a castle! Where...where was I? The way my ole lady talked about my ole man I thought he was some deadbeat loser that ran a drug ring. There was no drug ring in existence that could have bought this place. Not even mobsters could live in something like this!

Unsure of what to do, I picked up my bags and walked up the stairs to the mansion's large dark doors. Clearing my throat and sighing, I knocked. My knuckles ached from hitting the thick wood so hard.

I was probably the daughter of a well paid butler and the master was allowing me to stay. That seemed logical. There was no way this was MY home.

After a moment, the doors opened revealing an old man. He looked tired and had an air of depression about him. Confusion mixed into his features, "I'm sorry, but Master Wayne doesn't take unscheduled visits." He was British.

"I don' want ta be a bother," I said. "I think the taxi dropped meh off at the wrong place. May I use yar phone?"

"Don't people carry cellphones now?" He asked but allowing me in anyway.

"Aye, but he has me number, and I don' think he'll answer if I call from me phone."

"I see," the old man said as he led me to the phone. "If it's a man that won't answer your call, there's no need to call him."

I gave him a grateful smile as I pulled out the paper and dialed the number on home ticket I had. "Dads are the exception, eh?"

A disapproving look passed the old man's face. "I see. Perhaps he isn't the father you should have."

"Wouldn' know," I replied. "Never met him. Me ma wouldn' allow it."

Waiting patiently, I heard a ring from another room. The old man dismissed himself to answer it.

I heard the phone pick up then hang up. The buzz of the phone made me frown as I looked at it and hung up.

"Miss, what is your name?" The old man questioned.

"Oh, my apologies. My name is Jordan."

A low chuckle came from the stairway. Both of us looked at the man being supported by a cane. Dressed in a maroon bathrobe and white pajama pants, he made his way toward us. "I see your mother told you the reason behind your name."

I kept my mouth closed as I looked at the man in front of me. He looked worn down. His brown hair was a mess and his facial hair seemed to not be well cared for.

"When did you take on the name Jordan Baker?" He asked.

"I took Jordan, but not Baker. Me ma married a Baker, but I don' see how ya would know that."

"My name is Bruce Wayne."

I felt the blood leave my face. I was screwed beyond screwed. This was the richest man in Gotham and I had just sassed him. He must have had power somewhere.

The old man's eyes lit up some. "Miss Coolie, we weren't expecting you for another week."

"Ex...pectin'?" I asked slowly. Why would Bruce Wayne be expecting me?

"Grace's husband said you were coming," Bruce informed me. "Alfred set up a room for you. I thought I said to not bring anything."

I stared at the...billionaire? There was nothing for me to say. I couldn't believe it. I was going to live with Bruce Wayne.

"I...don' understand?" I managed to say.

Bruce limped up to me, placing his hand on my shoulder, "Don't worry about it for now. Settle in and be ready for a party tonight."

I raised an eyebrow as I watched him turn to head back up the stairs. I looked to the old man named Alfred. "Party?"

"Yes," he confirmed and started down a hall. Things were covered with sheets.

"Wha's goin' on?" I asked the old man.

"Master Wayne agreed to host a party in honor of Harvey Dent Day," Alfred explained.

"Harvey Dent Day?"

"A day in honor of the greatest DA Gotham City ever had. However, Master Wayne will not be attending that party. Congratulations, Miss Coolie. You are the new face of Wayne Enterprise." Alfred informed me.

I think my heart stopped. "M-Me?" I squeaked.

"Well, yes," Alfred said. "If Master Wayne won't take care of it, who better than his own daughter?"

I let the question sink in. My skin tingled at the news. That was a whole lot of responsibility. "Mr. Alfred, I ain't me da," I finally said.

Alfred chuckled, "I'm afraid you're wrong, Miss Coolie."

"Wayne," I corrected him. "If yar gonna be formal 'bout it, I'm takin' the Wayne name. I'd prefer Gatsby if ya would."

"And I would prefer Alfred, Miss Wayne," he replied with a smile.

I dropped my bags down, looking around the room, "Alfred, I need all the information ya can give me 'bout Harvey Dent in case me presence gets brought up. I don' want ta make us look like fools."

"As you wish, Miss Wayne," he replied, his old face brightening up.

"Alfred?" I called as I turned to face the old man. "How am I like me da?"

"It's your character," he said. "Your determination and your intelligence. With time, I believe you'll notice the similarities yourself."

He dismissed himself allowing me to prepare for this party. I didn't want to go. As I pushed the doors of the closet open, I realized what sort of life I would be living. The dresses were long and elegant. I pulled out a grey dress that had single strap for the shoulder and grey sequin stripes that followed the shoulder strap to her waist then headed the opposite direction down the long skirt to her feet. Pulling out silver heels to match, I laid the piece across the bed and headed to the bathroom.

After a shower, I began working on my makeup allowing my dark copper hair to dry naturally rather than making it frizzy by blow drying it. I pushed outside my comfort zone applying eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, and shimmered lip gloss. By the time I was in the dress, I heard a knock at my door.

I opened it and smiled sheepishly at Alfred. The smile on his face seemed to light up the entire house. I was happy to see the tired old man I had first met seem so lively.

"I see you are in need of some assistance," he said. I turned my back to him allowing him to zip up my dress.

When I turned to face him, he smiled almost proudly. "You look beautiful, Miss Wayne."

"Thank ya," I smiled.

He offered me his arm, but I went back to my bed and slipped on the heels making me as tall as the old man. I accepted his arm and walked with him down the quiet halls.

"What happened ta Harvey Dent?" I asked as I scanned the papers Alfred had brought me. Harvey Dent seemed like a stand up citizen.

"Well, he died. Rumors say that the Batman killed him," Alfred said.

"You don' think he was?" I asked.

He sighed as he rested his hand on my shoulder, "I suggest you try to find Mr. Fox."

He opened the door, allowing me in. I awkwardly stepped into the room, looking around at everyone. They were all so...well dressed. I looked over the people who spoke of Harvey Dent, Batman, and my ole man.

"Hi there," someone said.

I turned to a tall older black man who had a kind smile. "Hi," I greeted.

He offered me his hand, "Lucius Fox."

I smiled as I took his hand, "Gatsby Wayne."

He raised an eyebrow, "Wayne?"

"I'm Bruce Wayne's daughter," I explained.

"He's never mentioned a daughter before," he said as he put his hands in his coat pockets. "Especially not one he left in Ireland."

"It was best not ta mention me. Meetin' him wasn' on me ta-do list."

He chuckled some, "And now you're taking over the company. Good. We need an open mind on the team." He looked around, "Just in time for Harvey Dent Day. Interesting day to arrive. You're a lot like your father. Arriving at very convenient times."

"Convenient?"

"Yes, tomorrow we're having a board meeting on what we should do with Wayne Enterprise."

"Why? Wha's wrong?"

"No doubt you are aware the business is failing," Fox said as we walked within the crowd. "I think you'll be a nice addition, though the others may not see it that way."

He stopped in front of a picture of the blonde haired DA. "Harvey Dent. He was definitely kept the city in shape until he died. Even now the city is at the lowest crime rate I've ever seen."

"These board members, are they gonna want me there?" I asked.

"No," he said with a smile. "They don't want me there either."

"What sorta people are on this board?" I asked him.

"They're great businessmen and good supporters. Wayne Enterprise was very influential."

He had this gleam in his eyes like he was expecting me to say something. "'Was' is a word for failures," I told him. "Wayne Enterprise will be influential again."

He chuckled, "I thought you would say that. Your father was like that in his younger days when he first got the business."

I looked at the castle that was my home, "And look what that did ta him."

Fox sighed, "There is more to your father than you know."

"There's more ta me than he knows," I said.

"I hate to interrupt, but did you say your name was Wayne?" A man asked.

"Aye," I replied curious of his need for my attention. "Is there something I can do ta help ya?"

"How are you related to Bruce Wayne? Are you his wife? Girlfriend? Sister?"

"What does me relationship ta him matter ta ya?" I asked getting rather defensive of the interrogation.

"Well, a beautiful young woman like yourself could easily fall the billionaire, right?" He suggested.

I almost slapped him. He took a step back while a hand rested on my bare shoulder. "This is Miss Gatsby Wayne, Mr. Wayne's daughter," Fox introduced. "She will be taking her father's place in the business."

"You're a little young to be taking the business, aren't you?" The man asked.

"Aye," I replied bluntly. Screw manners! "However, me father's condition, me arrival, and everything else that goes on within the Wayne household ain't no concern of yars until yar part of the family." I quickly looked over him. "And I don' see that happenin'."

The young man glared and walked away. I watched him talk to others who glanced at me but did not approach.

"That is a journalist for the Gotham Daily," Fox told me.

"Good," I replied. "I may have a bad reputation buildin' in his opinion, but the city will change as well as the family business. I ain't gonna sit back and watch my Da die when I can prevent it."

"Die?" Fox asked.

"He's depressed," I told him. "Over what, I don' know and I'll care about it when he tells me. I ain't gonna let this rut bring us all down. Alfred is part of the family too."

"My, you are determined," Fox said with a chuckle.


	2. Harvey Dent Day

Fox informed me of all the problems with the industry. There was no profit, there was no representation, there was no face to support Wayne Enterprises.

"How badly has that damaged us?" I asked him.

"Pretty bad," he admitted. "A pretty face like yours will definitely bring back the talk though. However, you'll have to make an appearance at more parties and be willing to tell who you are. After the first flood of paparazzi, there isn't much else for you to worry about."

I nodded. "I need a month ta get used ta Gotham then I'll be able ta help. I want donations still goin' out. It doesn' have ta be much. Whatever the Wayne Foundation supports, send $1000 a week."

"We can spare more than $4000 for the program," Fox told me.

"Then $1000 a day," I said. "That will at least bring word that Wayne Enterprise waking up. Then we'll attack full force."

Fox smiled, "I like you already. Welcome aboard, Ms. Wayne."

I smiled some with a nod. "Thank ya, Mr. Fox."

"Ms. Wayne," Alfred called as he approached me. "There is someone who would like to speak with you."

I smiled at Fox. "It was a pleasure meetin' ya. I'm lookin' forward ta workin' with ya."

The older man waved, dismissing me silently.

"Who is it?" I asked Alfred.

"Her name is Miranda Tate," he said. "She's put a lot of money toward a clean energy fusion reactor. Your father shut down the project and she would like to know more about it."

"I don' know anythin'," I whispered as we walked through the crowd. "I can' just agree or disagree. I need the plans and everythin'."

"Everyone knows that Wayne's hold up in there with eight-inch nails, peeing in a Mason jar," the man looked at Alfred with a cocky smile. "It's very good of you to let me on the grounds."

"Aye, it was very good of him," I replied darkly. "Should ya speak of Bruce Wayne in such a way again, I'll have ya escorted out, even if I have ta do it m'self."

"Oh? And just who are you, lass?" He mocked my accent.

I clenched my fists, "I'm Gatsby Wayne, Bruce Wayne's daughter. I suggest ya leave now."

"So, this is Wayne's new ploy? Put his beautiful daughter as the new face of Wayne Enterprises? How cute," he smirked.

"Get out," I growled. He opened his mouth to retort, but I interrupted. "I said get out!"

His mouth closed as he smirked, "You aren't afraid of negative attention. How brave of you."

I grabbed the man's arm and dragged him down the stairs. When I got to the doors, I pushed him out. "I won' embarrass ya by throwin' ya off the property. Ya have ten minutes ta leave. Don' bother tryin' ta talk me father inta lettin' ya in. My word is final."

I closed the door, my fists still shaking from the anger. People were looking at me. I cleared my throat and smiled, "Hello everyone. I hope ya can forgive me father, he ain't been feeling well lately. Welcome ta Wayne Manor. Enjoy yar time here and keep in mind that tonight is 'bout Harvey Dent and the wonderful things he has done for Gotham City."

Before anyone could get to me, Miranda Tate found me first. Her blue eyes searched mine, begging for me to listen. "This project-"

"Ms. Tate, I will have ta speak with ya another day 'bout this project. I know me father shut it down, and I'm sorry for that, but I assure ya next month, I'll listen. I just wanna settle down and get ta know the area before I truly start handlin' business."

"You're willing to listen?" She asked, her blue eyes lighting up.

"Aye, I'm willing ta listen, but please contact me next month. I'll be at Wayne Enterprises on August 4th. Please come then and we'll discuss it."

She smiled brightly, "Thank you."

She walked away without so much as a goodbye. Narrowing my eyes, I watched as she disappeared in the crowd.

"So, you're Bruce Wayne's daughter?" An older man with thick glasses asked as he approached me. "I can see it."

"Gatsby Wayne," I introduced offering him my hand.

"Commissioner James Gordon," he replied taking my hand and shaking it.

"Ya must be fond of the Dent Act," I said with a small smile.

The inevitable guilt on his face told me I had stepped in the wrong direction.

"I helped your father when he was an orphan," he told me, a smile forming on his lips. "He was a good kid. Mind if I ask where your mother is?"

"She died in a car accident," I replied.

"Ah, I'm sorry," he said.

"It's fine," I replied. "She was a complicated woman that enjoyed money more than family."

"I've met people like that," he muttered as he took a gulp of whatever was in his cup. "How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-three."

"And already getting a business of your own. That must make things a lot easier."

"Well, I was goin' ta join the military after I got my US citizenship. Anemia kept me from joinin'."

"I see," he nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"I wouldn' be here if I had joined."

"What made you want to join?" He asked.

"I wish I could say patriotism. Honestly, I didn' plan for my future. I always had everythin' I needed and then some. Me mother married a rich businessman and I got everythin' I wanted. I didn' plan for college, a career or anythin'. So the military seemed like a good way ta go."

"Which branch?" He questioned.

"Air force or army."

"Well, if you ever feel the need to join the justice system, just let me know," he said as he patted me on the shoulder.

"If ya need support, let me know," I told him.

His tired grey eyes stayed on me for a moment, "You're going to be a new ray of sun in this dark city. I can already tell. You've got big plans, and I respect that. I wish you the best with it."

I smiled and shook his hand again, "It was a pleasure ta meet ya, Commissioner."

"You too," he said.

I sighed as I went through 300 more short conversations explaining that I was Bruce Wayne's daughter. Finally, everyone was gone. It was 1230 in the morning. After changing into something more comfortable, I headed down to help Alfred clean up.

"Now, Miss Wayne, this isn't something for you to do," Alfred scolded.

"Are ya gonna stop me?" I asked as I tied up the fifth garbage back and put it against the wall with the others.

The old man chuckled. I walked to him and placed my hand on his shoulder, "Ya go to bed, Alfred. Ya did a wonderful job keepin' everythin' in order. Ya don' need ta clean up. I'll do it. And I won' take 'no' for an answer."

The old man sighed, "Miss Wayne, I'm a butler. This is what I do."

"Fine, butler. Go ta bed," I ordered playfully.

He studied me for a moment, exhaustion starting to find its way to his face. "Miss Wayne-"

"Sleep in tomorrow. I'll take care of Da. Ya deserve it."

A weak smile found its way to his lips. I thought he was going to cry as he gave a nod and walked away. Sighing, I continued the clean up. After cleaning the stairway, lobby, and kitchen, I went outside to take care of the litter there. Disgusting people. I thought they were supposed to be classy.

When I finished the yard, the sun was rising. With a yawn, I headed inside and went to my room. After a nice shower, I got dressed in some jeans and a shirt then headed down to the kitchen. It had to be close to 830. When I got down stairs, I found my ole man looking around.

"Somethin' missin'?" I asked him.

"My breakfast," he said irritably. "Where is Alfred?"

"I gave him the day off. I'll make breakfast," I told him.

"You know how to cook?" He questioned, doubting my skills.

"I'm decent," I replied. "It ain't gonna be as good as Alfred's, but it might be close. What do ya want?"

"Just an omelet and coffee," he told me.

I pulled out the ingredients I thought would make a good omelet and started the cooking process while the coffee brewed.

"You look exhausted," he stated.

"I am," I assured him.

"Why did you give Alfred the day off?" He asked.

"He planned last night and kept everythin' in order. He deserved ta get some sleep. I'm puttin' up with ya today."

"You don't know me or Alfred," he commented.

"I don' need ta," I replied as I plated the omelet he asked for and poured him a cup of coffee. I placed it in front of him with a smile, "I'm yar kid. I know some of ya just by knowin' m'self."

He sighed as he took the fork and started eating the omelet. "It's good," he commented, surprise clear in his voice.

"Ya think Alfred'll want one?" I asked.

"Yeah, make him one," he said as he continued eating. "Did Ms. Tate talk to you last night?"

"Aye, I told her ta give me some time ta get used ta Gotham then I'd listen ta what she had ta say and then let her know if I'd continue the project or not."

"You?" He asked.

"Ya ain't takin' care of the company, Da. Ya can take it back when everythin's right."

He sighed heavily, "Just like your mother."

"Ma was a gold digger," I told him.

"She wasn't always a gold digger," he said. "I didn't expect her to become that way either. When I met her, she was a headstrong, logical girl that was filled with strange ideas. You're just like her."

"Right," I muttered as I plated the omelet and put it to the side.

"There's a tray over there," he said, using his cane to point at a cabinet.

I pulled one out and put the plate and a cup of coffee on it.

"His room is on the second floor, fifth door to your left."

I followed his directions, softly knocking on the door before walking in. The old man was sitting at a small table reading the newspaper. He looked up at me and took his glasses off. "What's that?" He asked.

"Breakfast," I smiled as I placed the tray in front of him. "I hope ya like it."

He looked teary-eyed again, "Whoever raised you, raised you in a way every child should be raised."


	3. Lost in Chinatown

I smiled some and walked out, closing Alfred's door behind me. Honestly, I thought I could have turned into a better person. I had practically raised myself. Without a disciplinary system to live by and getting too many things with my stoic personality, I was just sort of existing. When I was twelve was when my brat-ish ways began to fade. I started giving my things away rather than keep them. Some things I kept because I liked them, but if I found something I liked better, I would give it away.

However, I never parted with my ole man's gifts. Some were stuffed animals I donated before I came to the States, but I kept one and the jewelry he sent. The plushie I kept was the most ridiculous thing that could ever exist. It was a bison. A blue bison. For some reason, it was my favorite and I couldn't part with it, though now that I was with my ole man, it felt like it would be easier to part with.

When I returned to the kitchen, I grabbed some fruit from the fridge and poured myself a cup of coffee. I wasn't surprised my ole man wasn't there anymore. Alfred walked in, the newspaper tucked under his arm.

"Alfred, does Da have any cars?"

The old butler looked at me, "I believe so. Where do you plan to go?"

"Just on a drive. Explore a bit."

I followed him to a garage-like place. It was an underground garage with more cars than I care to admit he had. And all of them were much nicer than I cared to drive.

"Doesn' he have somethin' a little more...simple?" I asked as I stood in front of a black Mustang.

"I'm afraid not," Alfred said. "I can look into getting you something. Anything in particular you would like?"

"Older and not a car. Like a CRV or Jeep or somethin'."

"I will look into it, Ms. Wayne."

I crossed my arms over my chest, "No. Today I am Gatsby. No exceptions, Alfred."

He chuckled and handed me the keys to the Mustang. "Have a nice drive...Gatsby."

I got in the car and headed out. The air conditioner was turned up so I wouldn't have a panic attack behind the wheel. I hated driving, I hated cars. If I had the choice, I would walk everywhere, but the world runs on time and that requires cars.

When I got to the city, I found a parking garage and parked there. Chinatown! I always wanted to visit one. I was fluent in twenty different languages including Mandarin but never got to use them. As I wandered down the crowded streets, I looked at all the different stores seeing if anything interesting popped out.

Around three, my stomach got angry at my denial of needing food. Being completely lost and probably too deep in to find a restaurant outside Chinatown, I headed into the nearest restaurant called Ming Jiao. The line was surprisingly long which was fine with me. That meant good food.

The man in front of me took a step back to move out of the way, accidentally stepping on my foot. I was very glad I wore some Nikes I had found. His eyes widened in shock as he turned to me, "I am so sorry."

"Calm down, lad," I smiled. "No harm done."

He gave a sheepish smile. He was an attractive guy. Tanned skin, dark hair, dark eyes. He looked pretty young. I noticed the uniform and raised an eyebrow. "Yar an officer?"

He looked at me for a moment, "What? Oh. Yeah, I'm a-"

I put my finger over his lips. Any sort of authority name sent people running. Especially if any of them were immigrants, but that's how the best food came about. However, from what little research I did on Gotham, this place was bleeding criminals. I didn't want to get jumped or anything while enjoying my day being lost. My accent made it harder to understand but he would have spooked them.

"Blake," he said when I pulled my hand back.

"I'm Gatsby," I smiled.

"That's an interesting last name," he said.

"Last name?" I asked him. "That's my first name. Gatsby Wayne. Blake is yar last name?"

He cleared his throat. He looked embarrassed and awkward, "Yeah. I'm John Blake. Are you, uh, Bruce Wayne's-"

"Daughter," I finished before he jumped to the conclusion that I was his wife like so many others had done.

"Daughter?" He asked in surprise. "I wasn't aware he had children or that he was from Ireland."

"I'm an accident from years ago. You know, teen pregnancies and such."

"Oh," he said quietly. "I'm, uh, sorry to hear that."

"People and their apologies," I chuckled.

"Are you Irish?" He asked.

"No," I replied. "My step father moved us ta Ireland. I just caught the accent."

He nodded then stared dumbly at the woman who had just spoken to him. "I'm sorry, I don't speak Chinese."

I smiled as I stepped forward, telling her that we were together. I tugged him along and sat at a booth with him. "You don' know Chinese and yar in the middle of Chinatown?" I asked with a smile.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at the menu that was written in Chinese as well. "I was meeting a friend, but she cancelled last minute."

I frowned some, "I'm sorry."

"She didn't say she didn't like Chinese food, and I heard the deeper you go, the better it is." He closed the menu and sighed, "I guess it can't get much better than a place where there is no English speaking. So, what are you doing here?"

"I came ta explore. I got hungry, so I came in here. No need in starvin' ta death when there's so much ta see." I smiled sheepishly, "And I'm completely lost."

"Lost?" He asked with a smile. "How did you get lost?"

"Too many turns down too many alleys," I replied blandly.

"I can escort you out. I've been through here plenty of times," he said with a smile.

I smiled in return and ordered for the two of us, figuring he would like something very basic and familiar to the Chinese food that could be found outside the city.

He smiled at the food in front of him, "This looks amazing. What is it?"

"Well, the name of the place is Ming's Dumplin's, so I figured dumplin's might be a specialty. It's just a simple pork dumplin'."

"And what do you have?" He asked.

"Shrimp," I smiled. "You want ta try it?"

I cut off a piece and handed the fork to him. He gave it a skeptical look then ate it. He cringed some but swallowed. "Salty."

I laughed at his reaction then went back to eating. After lunch, which he paid for though I fought like hell to let me buy it, we left to find the exit of this maze of a civilization.

"The Commissioner said he met you," John said. "I didn't believe him. I remember when I was a kid at the orphanage, Bruce came with a drop dead gorgeous woman on his arm." He looked at me, "Was she your mother?"

"No," I laughed. "Orphanage, huh?" I asked. "That's rough. I'm sorry that happened. I know it can be difficult some days. Some more than others."

"How would you know?" He asked. He cleared his throat when he realized how rude it sounded.

"Growing up with everything you could ever want or need sounds great. It ain't. Where there's money, there's greed. That greed stole my mother from me. She married a rich businessman. I could get anything I wanted, 'cept her attention. Fortunately, I had enough sense ta not be too stupid, but I still did some things I'm not particularly proud of. But, that's the teenage years. Regrets and learnin'. I had ta raise myself. Become my own person. When she finally noticed me, she started callin' me Jordan."

"Jordan?"

"Like Jordan Baker from _The Great Gatsby_."

"Is there a story behind your name?" He asked.

"Ma liked _The Great Gatsby_. When she found out what character I's most like, she changed me name."

I stopped at a stand that was selling kites. I hadn't seen kites yet. I listened to the lady as she talked about the prices of the kites in slow English. Quickly explaining I spoke Mandarin, I continued to listen while picking up a dragon. It was the exaggerated swirly dragon with extending wings. I paid for it and continued on with John.

"What do you plan to do with the kite?" He asked.

"Put it up on my wall. I've got a very bland room. I have this problem where I have to decorate my walls or I practically panic." The thought of panicking reminded me I still had to drive home, something I didn't want to do at all.

When we were finally outside Chinatown, I was hungry again and John was as well.

"Hey, if yar an officer, why aren' ya on duty?" I asked.

"I am on duty," he replied with a smile. "I was told to monitor Chinatown. They've got a parade coming up. That's when most robberies happen around there."

"John!"

The two of us looked to a lovely young woman with beautiful lightly curled chocolate hair that shined beautifully under the sun, what little was showing. She was dressed in a skirt and grey shirt with a jacket.

"Hey Cassidy," John greeted with a smile.

"What happened to our lunch plans?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest with a glare shot toward me.

"You cancelled," John said. "I told you I was in Chinatown."

"How deep in Chinatown?" She asked casting me another look.

"I was in the center of the city," he replied. "Is something wrong?" He asked getting slightly defensive.

"Yeah, you skip lunch then walk out with her," she replied.

I looked at John then this Cassidy. The tension was beyond anything I could handle. "Uh, thanks for helping me," I replied. "I'm just...gonna go...now."

I started to leave, but John stopped me. "Where are you going?"

"Home," I replied. "I told Alfred he could have the day off and forgot I told him I would take care of Da. I'd say I'll see ya around, but who knows. Maybe one day. It was nice meetin' ya Cassidy."

She simply glared. I took a step back before turning and heading to the car. The drive back to Wayne Manor was beyond terrifying. There were speeding taxis and rushing people. I almost ran over seven family, got hit by six taxis, and had four cars ride my ass until I was back at the mansion. After I parked, I ran in and leaned against the wall, panting shakily.

I walked to the kitchen and got a glass of water with more ice than it really needed.

"I can't risk it, Alfred," I heard my father say. "It will put her in danger. If me being Batman gets out-"

"You don't have to be Batman anymore, sir," Alfred argued. "You've got a family now. You have something to live for."

"The city needs me," Dad replied. "The city needs Batman again."

I heard the butler sigh, "Sir, your daughter needs you."

"Alfred, I don't know that she is my daughter," my father replied. "I'm running a DNA test now."

"And if she isn't your daughter, then what will you do? Tell her the truth then kick her out?"

"Maybe," Da replied. "Haven't you seen her arrest record? Six assault charges that got dismissed because of Vincent's pull on the justice system. If it gets out, she'll ruin Wayne Enterprises."

"Well, at least you know she'll be able to protect herself in case something does happen," Alfred muttered.

Believing I had eavesdropped enough, I left the kitchen, taking my new dragon kite with me. When I got to my room, I sat down on the bed and stared at the floor. If I wasn't wanted here, I wouldn't stay here. Da greeted me with a genuine care, but his hospitality had run out. Just to get my mind off that, I would have to do more traveling around the city. But, even with that in mind, I heard him mention Batman, the person that had killed Harvey Dent. It explained why Alfred didn't believe it. I wondered how Harvey Dent really died.

I shook my head. It was a piece of information better to be forgotten. After a shower, I found Alfred putting a tray in a table in the corner of my room. "I'm sorry I didn' keep my word Alfred," I said while rubbing the back of my neck. "I got lost in Chinatown."

"Chinatown?" Alfred asked me. "Did you have fun?"

"If you call walking around 'til I got lost then meetin' a cop that had ta show me the way out and meetin' his girlfriend fun, then yes. I had a wonderful time."

"A girlfriend you say?" He asked as I sat down at the counter. "It seems you've caused a problem with the relationship already."

"I didn' intend it ta be that way," I mumbled as I rested my head on the counter. "I don' want drama right now. I just got here."

"Drama is all Gotham City knows, Ms. Gatsby," Alfred said as he dismissed himself.

Ms. Gatsby. I walked to the tray and pulled the silver cover off to see a small dinner of grilled chicken and string beans. Even though Da...Bruce...questioned my lineage, Alfred was still trying to treat me right. I guess without a proper last name, it would have to be like that. But when it was official, I was either going to be asked to leave or called Ms. Wayne again.

When Alfred returned, he handed me some car keys. The clicker went to a Jeep.

He smiled, "I picked it out myself. Practically new, actually."

I followed him outside and stared in shock at the wonderful dark green cloth top Jeep Wrangler in front of me. "It's perfect, Alfred!" I exclaimed as I hugged him.

Being higher than the taxis would help a lot.

"I suggest you keep the top on for a few days," he told me. "It will be raining soon."

"It's too big for the garage?" I asked.

"No, I just thought you wouldn't keep it down there."

I chewed on my lip as I looked at it. "I better put it up for now."

"Very well."

I jumped in and smiled at the stick shift Jeep Alfred had picked for me. Leather interior and manual windows. This was great. I parked it in the underground garage and headed back inside to check on my father.

"Hey Da?" I called as I stepped into a room.

"Yeah?" He replied from a semi-closed room.

"How are ya feelin'?" I asked, not opening the door.

"Never better. Want to tell me about the new car in my garage?"

"It's a jeep," I said as I opened the door.

"With all the cars to choose from, you want a Jeep?" He asked as he walked out of the bathroom.

"I don' like sports cars. I's hospitalized from a car accident in a sports car. It's not my first pick for a car now."

"The one your mother died in?" He asked.

"No, this was a different one," I told him. "Vincent was driving that time."

"Well, at least you'll feel better about driving. I thought you gave Alfred the day off," he smiled.

"I did," I said as I leaned against the wall. "Then I went ta Chinatown and got lost. And potentially ruined a cop's relationship."

"Oh really?" He asked. "I wasn't expecting you to be like that."

I glared at him. "I ain't like that. I got lost in Chinatown and followed him around while he patrolled. She wasn' too happy ta hear he helped me get out."

"Would you?" He asked.

"I'd like ta think I would be more understandin'."

"You'd like to think?" He asked.

"I don' date," I replied seriously. "And I don' plan on startin' any time soon. I've got a business ta try ta understand and pull out of the rut and start bringin' everythin's back ta life."

He shook his head. "Don't get ahead of yourself. Give yourself some time to get used to the city first."

I bit my tongue. If I hadn't overheard the conversation, this would have been something I would have completely looked over, but he didn't want me anywhere near the business. So, I smiled. "Aye, that'd be best."

"So, did you like the party last night?" He asked as he slowly sat down.

It was hard to believe a man this worn down was Batman or a billionaire.

"Nah, I did meet some nice people though. Mr. Fox and the Commissioner."

"You're quite the topic of the media now," he said as he pushed a newspaper toward me.

I looked at the page he had opened. The picture was blurry and the title was THE NEW FACE OF WAYNE ENTERPRISES.

"There ain't no face," I said. "It's all burry."

He sighed, "It's surprising for anyone to not get a clear picture. Guess you lucked out for now."

"Aye, I suppose so."


	4. Cross to Bear

I walked around the house and found myself in the West Wing where I found a lovely black piano. I picked up the picture that rested on top and studied the woman. Marking out every woman that may have crossed his path, I could only conclude that she was my grandmother. She was beautiful, her hair fluffy, but still smooth down her shoulders. She was wearing a black dress and a pearl necklace. Placing the picture down, I poked at some keys.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the wall shift. Slowly, the bookcase began to open revealing an elevator? Curious as to why an elevator to the car garage was hidden, I stepped in and pushed the button. The bookcase closed as I descended. A smell of mold and rocks accompanied with the sound of water caught my attention.

My jaw dropped when I stepped out of the elevator and found a large cave. It was an underground lake! I continued forward only to stop when I heard the water shift. Slowly, a metal bridge rose from the water. It led to an island like place in the middle where multiple computer screens stayed.

I headed forward and looked at the equipment. A few years ago, it would have been considered impossible to hack this sort of programming. However, it could easily be hacked now, at least by me.

I sat down and started opening the programs to find that all the screens were defaulted to the news, criminal tracking, my DNA test, a tracker on a Selina Kyle and some other things that I didn't think were important. I pushed a few more keys and heard the ground hiss. Turning, I watched a glass case come up from the ground.

I approached the suit. Batman. Really, I believed he was some myth. Just a figment of the Joker's imagination that had poisoned Gotham City. This proved me wrong. I pushed a button on the side of the glass and watched it open. My fingers ran over the armor, my mind spinning with different things. Bruce wore this to save Gotham City. But, it wasn't needed anymore, so why did he still have it?

I headed back to the computer and shut everything down. When I got back to the top, I heard voices coming from the sitting room. I kept my distance, remaining silent as I eavesdropped on the conversation.

"My dad got shot a couple years later over a gambling debt and I remember that one just fine," a guy said. Why was he telling his life story? "Not a lot of people know what it feels like, do they? To be angry in your bones. I mean, they understand. Foster parents. Everybody understands for a while. And then they want the angry little kid to do something he knows he can't do. Move on. So after a while, they stop understanding. They send the angry kid to a boys' home. I figured it out too late. You gotta learn to hide the anger. Practice smiling in a mirror. It's like putting on a mask. So you showed up this one day, in a cool car. Pretty girl on your arm. We were so excited," he laughed some. "Bruce Wayne, billionaire orphan! I mean we used to make up stories about you, man. Legends. And, you know, with the other kids, that's all it was, just stories, but...right when I saw you, I knew who you really were. I'd seen that look on your face before. It's the same one I taught myself. I don't know why you took the fall for Dent's murder, but I'm still a believer in the Batman even if you're not."

I took a few steps back when I heard footsteps approaching the door.

"Why did you say that your boys' home used to be funded by the Wayne Foundation?" I heard Bruce ask.

"Because the money stopped," the guest replied. "Might be time to get some fresh air. Start paying attention to the details. Some of those details might need your help."

I took a few more steps back until I was in the nearest bathroom where I stepped in and silently closed the door. I went into panic mode when the doorknob jiggled. I quickly flushed the toilet and turned on the water. Quickly washing my hands and carelessly drying them off, I opened the door to find Officer Blake standing there. His neck started to tense up as he swallowed hard.

"Sorry," he said.

I gave a smile and stepped by him then continued down the hallway.

"Gatsby," Bruce called.

I froze for a moment then took a few steps back and looked into the room. "Aye?"

"Please escort Officer Blake out. I'm afraid Alfred is busy at the moment."

"Will do."

I heard the door open and smiled at the young officer. "Do ya need help findin' the way out?"

"Uh...yeah," he smiled.

I felt eyes on the back of my head. When I looked over my shoulder, Bruce was staring at me with warning and encouragement. I took a few steps then heard him laugh some.

"Do you like trying to get people lost?" Officer Blake asked as I turned down another hallway.

I looked at him from the corner of my eye, "I'm not gonna lie ta ya. I have no idea where we are. I got there by accident. I'm just tryin' to find a staircase."

He scoffed in disbelief, "You have no idea where we are?"

"It's not like we're gonna starve ta death," I muttered. "I've got some candy bars. I've only been here for like three days. I ain't had time ta explore the place yet."

"Right," he said with a chuckle.

I looked around when we came to an archway. "Oh. I know where we are now."

He followed me down the staircase and to the front door. "Thank you for that adventure," he smiled.

"Uh, yer welcome, I guess."

"I'll, uh, see you around."

"Alright," I replied as the conversation I had over heard began to sink into my mind.

Was he going to be interrogating me about Dent's murder?

I closed the door behind him. Bruce and Alfred were standing there whispering to each other while watching the young officer drive away.

"Is he going to be visiting more?" Bruce asked.

"He didn' say he was," I replied.

"So, you won't be seeing him?" He pressed.

"Oh, no. That's the officer I met in Chinatown," I said with a wave of my hand. "Nice guy."

"He had a lot of nice things to say about you," Bruce said. "You made a good impression on him."

I raised an eyebrow at his smirk, "I ain't one for intimacy."

He sighed, "That's going to have to change, Gatsby. You see, you're the new face of Wayne Enterprise. That requires a great deal of responsibility and a lot of publicity. You'll have to get used to intimacy because people will ask you to dance at some of the events."

"Wayne Enterprise might be in trouble 'cause I won' dance with strangers," I told him. It was a nice move on his part, trying to make me think I was actually being accepted.

He raised an eyebrow, "Well, at least you're not completely like your mother."

"Ms. Gatsby, might I request a day in the city? Master Wayne will be going to a charity ball that is coming up."

I crossed my arms over my chest, "Da can' get a date?"

Bruce gave me a look, "It would be easier to introduce the new face of Wayne Enterprise as my daughter when I'm there to do it."

"Right," I mumbled. "Well, I'll get everythin' set up tomorrow, Alfred. Thank ya for informin' me."

"I'll get your friend on the list too, if you'd like," Bruce called after me.

"He's a cop, Da. He doesn' have time for it."

He chuckled while I continued on. I heard mutters of a hospital visit. When I got in my room, I watched a silver sports car speed off. That left me here with Alfred. No doubt he knew about the secret cave. I was going to have to find a way to get back down there. Yes, Gotham needed Batman, but Bruce didn't need Batman.

Tomorrow, I would get a gun permit that would hopefully ease his mind. I would have to find another way to look up information about Batman and him. If there was any way for me to prevent whatever hell was about to happen, I was going to go through with it, no matter what the consequences were.

This was going to be my cross to bear. And I wouldn't accept 'no' as an answer.


	5. Gun Permit

I did as Alfred suggested. I went to the city, got my hair cut to a more classy style and got my nails manicured. That was the worst day of my life. After that, I started making the habit of leaving the manor near dawn and not returning until the sun was down. But, even at night, I kept myself busy.

Bruce and Alfred's rooms were nowhere near the bookcase, so I managed to sneak down there at night. I had taken a flashlight with me and found out that the cave was hidden behind a waterfall not far from the house.

I was almost caught that night, but thankfully it had been pouring down rain when Alfred caught me walking in through the front door.

"Ms. Gatsby, what on earth are you doing up so late?" He asked.

"I start my gun permit classes tomorrow," I replied. It wasn't a lie, and he knew it, but I wasn't worried about it at all. "Just anxious I guess."

"I see. Staying up all night won't help, you know and that isn't a class you want to sleep through."

I smiled, "Aye, yer right. I'll be headin' on then. Night Alfred."

"Goodnight, Ms. Gatsby."

After a warm shower, I got ready for bed and just laid there, staring at the ceiling. The dragon was still over me, flying toward the window. I decided right then I wanted a dog. Maybe Bruce would let me keep it on my part of the house. Alfred wouldn't have to worry about it because I was going to keep it with me nearly all the time. And it was going to be a big dog, not some toy poodle.

I sighed as I closed my eyes. Alfred was right. Gun permit classes were the ones that should be blown off like history.

Again, I was out of the house by dawn. We would be attending that charity ball and I didn't want to put up with it. However, when I got to the police station where I heard my classes would be, I got turned away.

"The Commissioner got shot," the man, Peter Foley told me.

"He did?" I asked shocked by the news. "By who?"

"Someone in the sewers," he waved off. "Said it was an army or something."

"And ya didn' believe him?" I asked.

The man gave me a stern gaze, "Don't tell me you believe him."

"'Course I do!" I said. "He ain't got no reason ta be makin' somethin' so serious up."

Foley sighed as he leaned forward, "He's used to chaos on the streets. Now that he doesn't have anything to do, he's overreacting."

"Overreactin' my ass," I mumbled, still looking at the man.

"Aren't you Bruce Wayne's kid?" He questioned with suspicion. "Why are you here? Wayne doesn't support guns."

"I do," I said.

"Here for a gun permit?" Someone asked behind me.

I looked at young Officer Blake, "Startin' ta see ya more than yer bird would approve, Officer Blake."

"My...bird," he questioned.

"Aye, whats-her-name from Chinatown."

He was quiet for a moment. I felt bad at the pain stricken look on his face.

"You can't be serious," Foley said as he stood up. "What the hell did you do to make Cassidy leave you?"

"Don' ya be do in' that ta him," I told the commanding officer. "It was prolly my fault. Officer Blake's a good man. If she left him just 'cause he helped me get outta Chinatown, then she ain't worth his time of day."

"It wasn't you," Officer Blake said. "I left her."

Foley scoffed, "You left her? You were so lovesick about her you could hardly talk."

"And when I could, she wouldn't listen," Blake told him. His attention came back to me, "Why do you want a gun permit?"

"So I can have a gun," I said slowly, officially unsure if that was what I needed a gun permit for.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Wayne," he apologized sincerely. "He's right. The Commissioner is the one that teaches the class and it's only on Saturdays. He's been shot, so there's no telling when he'll get out of the hospital."

"Besides the hole, is he alright?" I asked.

"Yeah," he smiled. "He'll be fine. He's a bit...old...so it will take some time for him to recover."

"Tell him he can' be a dosser for long. Gotham will be needin' a sound guard ta lead ya in the right direction."

Officer Blake just stared at me for a moment. "What did you say?"

I just smiled, "Tell him I said ta get well soon."

"But that's not what you said, is it?" He asked.

"'Course not. I ain't gonna be tellin' ya my secrets if ya don' get 'em the first time. I'll see ya around, Officer Blake."

"Just John," he said before I could leave.

"Just John?" I asked, not understanding what he was talking about.

Foley sighed, "Not this again."

I looked at the older officer then to Officer Blake. He rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless. "Just call me John."

"Only if ya call me Gatsby," I told him.

He nodded as he tapped the file in his hand against his palm, "Then, I guess I will be seeing you around, Ms. Gatsby."

"Aye, ya will be, Officer John," I mocked and headed to the door.

I yawned as I walked down the sidewalk. Wayne Enterprises wasn't far. It wouldn't hurt to catch up with Mr. Fox. I stood in front of the building, looking up at the sky scraper. It wasn't the tallest building, but it was taller than the buildings around it, but only by a couple of floors. I had walked by it plenty of times, never bothering to go in. I would be seeing the inside of the building every day for the rest of my life.

Checking my phone for the time, I decided I could ask Mr. Fox for his lunch hour. I stepped in and headed to the elevator.

"Uh, miss?" A receptionist called. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Appointment?" I questioned as I approached the desk. "No, why?"

"I can't let you go up there unless you have an appointment," he replied.

"Can ya call Mr. Fox?" I asked. "I was wantin' ta see if he'd like ta go ta lunch with me."

He sighed, "I'll see. What's your name?"

"Gatsby Wayne."

He raised an eyebrow as he put the plastic phone to his ear. "Yes, there's a woman here calling herself Gatsby Wayne. She wants to speak with you...Alright...Of course, sir."

He hung up and nodded, "19th floor."

I headed to the elevator and pushed the button. The woman next to me was wearing a business outfit. Red blazer, white shirt, black skirt and black heels. Her blue eyes were narrowed as she looked at me. I guess I would be a little upset if I had to stand next to someone dressed in jeans and a loose jacket.

"Is your name really Gatsby Wayne?" She asked as the door opened.

"Aye," I said with a smile. "Ma liked _The Great Gatsby_."

"Then how are you related to Bruce Wayne?"

"I'm his daughter," I told her with a questioning gaze. I mean...she couldn't be that dim, could she?

"Daughter?" She asked in shock. "You?"

I took a step away from her as I pushed the 19. I stayed quiet though the woman continued to talk.

"So, are you here to take over Wayne Enterprises? It'll take more than a pretty face to get this business back in shape."

"I won' be the face of Wayne Enterprises," I replied. "Da can keep that. I'm gonna fix this place and leave it ta him. This doesn' concern me."

She finally stepped off at 10 letting me enjoy the silence of the elevator. With a sigh, I stepped out of the elevator and found Mr. Fox behind a glass wall, sitting at a desk.

I knocked first to catch his attention. "Afternoon, Mr. Fox," I greeted.

"Hello again, Ms. Gatsby," he greeted with a smile.

I wasn't sure how to take that. Did Bruce tell him he wasn't sure if he was my father?

"To whom do I owe the pleasure of sending you my way?" He asked as he stood.

I just smiled, "Would ya like ta join me for lunch?"

"That I would, Ms. Gatsby," he said as he picked up a thick file. "I've got some things I need for you to look at. I want to see where you think we should concentrate our production. Your father invested in a very expensive project then backed out. This holds the details."

I took the file from him and opened it while following him to the elevator. "Your father has been asking if you've been here. He said you've been leaving the house before he even gets a chance to see you, then you return after he's gone to bed. Are you avoiding him?"

"Nah, I'm explorin'. I like walkin' around Gotham. It's helpin' me learn where thin's are and how ta get ta the necessary places."

"That's what GPS is for, Ms. Gatsby," he told me.

"Aye," I agreed as I flipped a few pages. "It ain't very useful in this city. Wankers be drivin' faster than the speed of light and expectin' no one ta die."

Mr. Fox chuckled. "That's one way of saying it."

When we got to a somewhat nice restaurant, we sat down while I kept looking through everything.

"Mr. Fox, what happened ta Applied Sciences?"

"Why do you ask?"

"A lot of money came from that department. If it came back, stabilizin' the business wouldn' be as hard."

"I'm afraid I don't recall what happened to that department. I wasn't CEO then," he explained.

We ate lunch without talking business.

"I heard you were attending tonight's charity ball," he smiled.

"Aye," I sighed. "I ain't happy 'bout it."

"It's a masquerade, Ms. Gatsby," he said. "All you need is a mask."

I shuddered some. "That's worse. I hate masks."

"So, the beautiful Gatsby Wayne doesn't have a date, then?" He asked.

"'Course not," I replied. "I ain't met no one to bring."

"I heard there was a young cop that spoke very highly of you," he smiled suggestively.

"Officer Blake?" I asked. "He's a good man."

"That he is," Fox agreed. "He was a bit shocked when I called him in to ask him some questions."

"'Bout what?" I asked as I took a sip of my water.

"Oh, nothing important," he said as he looked out the window. "He doesn't have a clean record though. Some of his teenage years got him into some trouble."

"Not everyone can be a saint," I replied. "What'd he do?"

"Some assault charges," he replied. He raised an eyebrow as a smile began to form on my lips. "Is something funny about that?"

"How many?" I asked.

"Three," he replied. "He said a night in jail helped."

"Just three? Maybe he is a saint," I smiled.

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"I thought Da would have told ya. I was in the cage four times for assault charges, but none of 'em held. I sorta grew out of it. My last one was when I was 17."

"Four times in holding?" He asked rather shocked.

"Oh, aye," I said. "Personally, it was better than home. Woulda been more, I suppose, but I didn' get caught the other two times. Apparently it don' matter if it's self defense or not. Beatin' someone is beatin' someone."

He cleared his throat some, "I wasn't aware you knew any sort of fighting."

"Aye, I took a lil bit when I's younger, but it didn' really stick. I ended up in street fights and ya can' play fair in those. Ain't no honor in losin' ta a cheater; it only makes a foothold for a nastier revenge."


	6. League of Shadows

I headed home so I could get ready for this charity ball. I was less than thrilled when I started getting ready. The only dress I found in the closet was an uncomfortable looking strapless red dress. I know dresses like this are made for looks not comfort, but I was going to be walking around, sitting, and if I was nice, dancing.

I got dressed and fixed my hair and makeup then met Bruce in the lobby where he stood dressed in a sharp tux. He would have looked nice had it not been the cane he was leaning on.

"You look nice," he commented. "Ready to go?"

I sighed, "Aye. I'm ready."

He chose the silver Lamborghini and sped off toward the city.

"You will have to dance tonight," he told me.

"I decided ya can stay the face of Wayne Enterprises. I'll be in the background tryin' ta fix it," I replied as I looked down at my hands trying not to pick at my nails.

"You'll still have to dance. That's how people are."

"Right," I muttered. When we got there, the paparazzi had a fit he was out if the house, but the cameras whirred down when he pushed a button. I followed him in and watched him greet people around and introduce me to them. I started to follow him up the stairs, but someone blocked me off.

I stared in shock and horror at the man in front of me. The sandy blonde haired man standing in front of me had his usual devious crooked smile. He looked like he hadn't shaved in a couple of days and his piercing blue eyes stung my soul. Even though he was wearing a mask, I could tell it was him. That was a face I would never forget. I had never seen him in a tux before and it didn't much suit him.

"Hello again," he greeted.

I just stared at him.

"Don't you look lovely?" He asked as he stepped down a couple of steps.

I had heard that accent before, but I wasn't sure where.

"Shall we?"

Out of fear, I followed him to the dance floor allowing this one exception to my night. The moment he let me go, I was leaving.

"I heard Wayne Enterprises was getting a new face. I didn't know it would be yours."

"Ya sound disappointed," I told him.

"You cut your hair," he said. I could feel his fingers tugging at the ends of my hair.

"And ya haven' shaved."

He smiled, "I haven't had time."

"What are ya doin' in Gotham, Barsad?"

"I'm here on business," he said with a smirk.

"Business? What sorta business ya got at this thin'?"

"Nothing," he replied. "I'm here to keep you occupied while my superior gets information from someone else." He twisted my hand some to where if he put enough force, it would break. "Unless you know something."

"Can' say I do," I told him. "I haven' been here long enough ta know somethin'."

His eyes moved past me then he pulled me closer. "You know. You just don't know how important it is."

He kissed my cheek then disappeared into the crowd. I headed up the stairs. This was not good news. The League of Shadows was in Gotham and nothing good would come of that.

I was thirteen when I met Barsad. He was in Ireland and the leader of a small street gang, or so I thought. Really, he was spreading the poison of the League of Shadows. He trained me well enough, but disappeared before I could officially join. I had a high school crush on him, like a student would have on a teacher. I was hurt when he left without me, but I soon realized what evil the League of Shadows truly was.

I sighed as I stood at the railing watching Bruce dance with some lady. He took a pearl necklace from her neck and I was slightly surprised at the sudden intense kiss she gave him then rushed off. Weird...

I went back down stairs where I found him still staring at the doorway. When he saw me he headed toward the door. "I don't want to talk about it. However, I would like to know more about your dance partner."

"There's nothin' ta tell," I told him.

The crippled old man that was Batman now wouldn't be able to handle the League of Shadows. When we stepped outside, Bruce searched his jacket for the ticket for the valet. "I guess I lost it," he told the woman.

"Your wife said you would be taking the cab home," she told him.

"My wife?" He asked in disbelief.

He called Alfred and we waited for the butler to come for us. "I thought you were interested in that officer," Bruce persisted.

"I ain't interested in anyone," I told him.

"He was interested in you," he said.

"As much as the woman that stole yer wallet."

He narrowed his eyes at me. I didn't push it any further because that would bring up his secrets and I wasn't going to let him in on mine. When we got in the car, I was still thinking about Barsad. From what I knew about the League of Shadows, the leader had died. That had been a whisper on the wind, so it may have been a lie.

When we finally got back to the manor, I went straight to my room and locked the door. That Foley man had mentioned an underground army. Was the League of Shadows in on it? Who was Barsad's superior?

I took a shower and changed into something for bed. I stared at the ceiling for a while. I would have to get back in the cave and with the Lamborghini having been stolen, I doubted Bruce would go anywhere without Alfred for a while.

It gave me a chance to research in the cave. I just had to pay attention to what was going on when I went down there or limit my time to an hour. The next morning, Alfred informed me of Bruce's whereabouts. He had gone to Wayne Enterprises to talk to Mr. Fox about the financial condition of the company.

When I got the opportunity, I headed to the cave and found I had been beat to the questions. Bruce was looking into Bane already. As I read over what was on the screen, I started to feel sick. Bane was Barsad's superior, but someone that looked like that wouldn't have been able to hide in the charity ball.

The whirring of the elevator descending caught my attention. Quickly I shut it all down then jumped into the lake and stayed against the wall.

"Master Wayne, what are you doing?" Alfred asked.

"She knows, Alfred," Bruce replied.

"Ms. Gatsby?" He asked.

"Yeah," Bruce replied. "She's been down here more than once. I think she's working with Bane. The man she was dancing with is working for Bane. She wasn't exactly opposed to dancing with him."

"Well, sir, she has been acting strange since that night," Alfred said. Was he agreeing with him? "Perhaps he's threatening her."

"No," Bruce said. "He trained her under the ways of the League of Shadows. Ra's al Ghul died a year before she could officially join."

Alfred sighed, "She's a good kid, Master Wayne. It could be coincidence."

"There's no way all of this is coincidence," Bruce snapped. "Something is going on. I need to find out what."

"And how do you plan on doing that, sir?" Alfred asked.

"If that kid really believes in Batman then he'll do what he can to help."

A chime echoed silencing everything.

"Well, Master Wayne, she is your daughter. Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

I heard Bruce sigh, "I have to, Alfred. She's a threat to Gotham."

"Or she can be a spy for you," Alfred said. "Talk to her about it."

"I need to know which side she's on before I can ask for favors. I'll get the officer to talk to her."

"If you say so, sir. Do you think she will trust him?"

"We can hope," my father sighed.

I heard a nasty crunch and my father scream in pain.

"Is it painful?" Alfred asked. I could hear him smiling.

"You're more than welcome to try, Alfred."

"Happy watching, sir," the old butler replied.

I propped my arm on the wall. I was definitely going to be in the lake for a while.


	7. Clicker

I waited a moment once the elevator shut. When I was certain I was alone, I climbed up the wall only to find Alfred standing there. I swallowed hard. It must have been my nerves that made his face hard to read.

Sighing, I pushed my soaked hair from my face and sat down on the ground.

"What are you doing, Ms. Wayne?" Alfred asked curiously.

"Waitin' for a lecture," I replied. "Or the cops. Depends on yer mood I suppose."

He folded his hands behind his back and approached me, "Ms. Wayne, I would like to ask you to leave. Obviously, it isn't my place to tell you what to do. Your father will become that cursed Batman again. Only this time, I'm afraid he wants to."

"Wants ta?" I asked curiously as I climbed to my feet.

"Did you know your father was in the League of Shadows?" Alfred asked. "He's the reason why Ra's al Guhl is dead. Though, I can tell you definitely took your training more seriously than your father. You live by it every day, don't you?"

"I don' know anythin' else," I replied.

The old man smiled, "Well, if you found the cave by yourself, I'm certain you can find everything else on your own."

"Everythin' else?" I asked.

He headed back to the elevator. "I'll bring you some dry clothes."

He ascended while I sat at the computer and started typing. Everything else...the Batman suit! That had to be what he was talking about. Someone was manufacturing that stuff, right?

I started digging through the programs and recently visited sites. I frowned when I opened a page. Fox had lied to me. He shut down Applied Sciences about ten years ago, not long after he became CEO of Wayne Enterprises.

The money had just stopped. One day it was there and the next it was gone. The money left over from the area was being spent on weapons? I chewed on my lip as I stared at all this stuff. Sonar through cellphones, small bombs, an armored car and some weird thing. It looked like a space craft. Among other things, specific materials like titanium and such were being bought and put toward bat-shaped shuriken and strong tranquilizers.

My list of allies was growing thin. I chewed on my lip as I thought things over. I could spy in on what Barsad was doing, but that would be too easy. I had to find the spy that was looking into us.

Alfred returned with a towel and dry clothes in his arms. "Here you are."

I smiled as I took them from them then went to a more secluded area to change. "Alfred?"

"Yes, Ms. Wayne?"

"I was lookin' inta Barsad and wonderin' what ya came up with."

"It seems the League of Shadows has a new leader," Alfred said as I went back to the computer. "His name is Bane. He was excommunicated from the League of Shadows. We believe he is here working for Daggett. He is the owner of a construction company that is rivaling Wayne Enterprises. With Wayne Enterprises in its current shape, Daggett has taken this opportunity to try and take it. I'm certain you remember him."

I looked up at him. Had I met a Daggett?

"You kicked him out of the manor on Harvey Dent Day."

I scrunched my nose, "I don' like him. He ain't a nice person. Barsad would never work for someone like that."

"If Barsad is working for Bane he would," Alfred argued.

"I ain't so sure. Barsad wasn' the type ta do thin's he didn' wanna do, no matter who's in charge."

"Are you saying Bane is doing something separate from Daggett?" The butler asked.

"Aye," I confirmed quietly. "I believe so."

The two of us got in the elevator, going back to the manor.

"He left, didn' he?" I asked Alfred.

"Yes, there was quite a show at the stock market. They took hostages."

When he walked to the large living room, he turned on the tv and we watched as hell broke loose.

"The men on the motorcycles are the ones that attacked the stock market," he told me.

"But the cops ain't chasin' 'em," I said as one turned around and sped off the opposite direction.

"Why would they?" Alfred asked me. "The murderer of Harvey Dent has their attention for now."

"Da didn' really kill him, did he?" I asked.

"No," Alfred said with a sigh. "He fell off a three story floor. He was trying to shoot the Commissioner's boy. The Commissioner didn't want to blame Batman, but your father wasn't going to let Harvey Dent's reputation get tainted by that. That mad man did more damage to Gotham than any other villain could ever imagine."

"Ya talkin' 'bout the Joker?" I asked him. "Aye, he was a bloody header if there ever was one."

"Your father lost the only woman he ever loved to that mad man," Alfred said. "It ruined him. He stopped being this hero and stopped living. He didn't move on."

"He ain't suffered enough," I told him. "I don' believe he'll ever suffer enough. He lost what he thought was important. Ya love him, Alfred. Ya gotta let him learn the hard way."

Alfred nodded in agreement, "I know. I've already decided." He turned to me. "When you get the chance, take a closer look at Mr. Fox's desk."

I remembered the office well enough. There were no security cameras and it would be easy to slip in at night.

"Take care, Alfred," I smiled as I hugged him.

Cutting the farewell short, I headed to my room and grabbed a black hoody and slipped it on.

"Ms. Wayne," Alfred said from the door. "I did as your father asked and set you up to meet Officer Blake. Shall I tell him to meet you in the city instead of picking you up?"

I headed back to the tv as I tied my hair back. "He's prolly with 'em. I'll let him rest up tomorrow. Tell him ta meet me for supper in Chinatown."

I smiled at the old man and hugged him again. "He don' appreciate ya enough. If ya leave, I want ya ta keep in contact, eh?"

The old man smiled, "Of course, Ms. Wayne."

"Not no more, Alfred. I'll be Gatsby. Ya ain't workin' for me. Ya never were."

His smile was heartbreaking. He put a clicker and my keys in my hand. "Your car was paid in full. It can't get repossessed."

"Thank ya, Alfred. This means the world and more ta me."


	8. Screw Getting Caught

I left to the cave. With some simple tinkering and blueprints and information of the Wayne Enterprises security system, I turned the remote to where all I had to do was push the button and it would temporarily shut down the entire security system, including computers. The building would become a secluded power outage and take out the back up generators as well. I would have ten minutes to get to the 19th floor until the security system kicked back on.

Going to my jeep, I started my drive toward the city. It had been a while since I had been so...alive. I didn't necessarily like it, but I didn't have much choice. Alfred seemed to be encouraging my thievery. He gave me a backpack. If I could find what Fox was hiding, I would be able to help keep Bane at bay or in the least, keep my father from killing himself.

In the darker places of Gotham, I found a jeep almost like mine. It may have been a year or two older. Keeping silent and in the darkness, I changed my license plate with that one, which happened to be expired, and drove to Wayne Enterprises. The general store manager was watching the news.

"Hard to believe that bastard showed his face again," he said as he took my money.

"Aye," I agreed. "He's been MIA for eight years, though. They shoulda followed the robbers. They did attack the stock market."

He looked at me with a glare then went back to watching the news. I left and headed up a few blocks to Wayne Enterprises. Just before I reached the door, I pushed the button. Everything went dark. Not even the emergency exit were on. I opened the door and manually locked it behind me then ran to the stairs. Running up 19 stories was not something I would voluntarily do again.

The lights started to flicker when I opened the door. The stairwell was lit up again. I was in. Heading to Fox's desk, I searched over and found a button hidden beneath a decorative coffee mug. With a simple push, I watched the book case slide back. I stepped in and looked at all the bizarre things around. The armored cars came in a camo pattern and there were more things around as well. Large guns, motorcycles, boxes marked AMMO, and the technology. What the hell was Fox doing with all this?

I continued to look around, looking for anything that might help Da out and if not him, then me.

Screw being caught. I was going to search through this stuff.

I began opening boxes and pulling cabinets open. I must have spent hours looking at all the things, taking some of the more interesting and things I deemed necessary to have, like the micro-sonar something or other. I took a lot of bat shuriken and a hook shot. There wasn't much that interested me that I could immediately use. I would have to have an expert took kit and somewhere secret to mess with everything.

My mind immediately went to Officer Blake. I doubted he would cover for me, but there was always a chance. After I found the file Fox had showed me, I shoved everything I wanted into the backpack Alfred had given me. I walked out and closed the door then left down the stairwell. Shutting down security the moment I reached the first floor, I manually opened the door again, wiping my fingerprints off and headed to my jeep.

After changing the car tags back, I went on a search for the toolkit I needed. When I found a hardware store, I found every tv on the news once again. Not only had Batman returned, but my father lost all his money in a bad stock investment. How strange.

Before I left the hardware store, the entire ground began to shake. I held onto the wall and walked outside just as a cop car hit something and flipped over. I ran to the car and kicked the window in. I couldn't help but chuckle.

"So we meet again, Officer Blake." I reached in, carefully unbuckling his seatbelt then pulled him out of the car. I sat on the ground holding him up as I waited for the explosion-related earthquakes to stop.

"I don't have time for this," the young officer mumbled.

"Ya got all the time in the world, Officer," I assured him. "Let's get ya stable before we try ta save the world."

I dragged him off the road and propped him against the wall then sat down as I took his gun from its holster. Luckily, the pistol still had six bullets. "Don' ya carry stronger guns?" I asked as I whipped the chamber back in.

The young officer started to blink a few times before squinting and looking at me. "What are you doing here? You should be getting to a safer place!"

"Why should I do that?" I asked as I stood up. "We ain't got time for me ta be gettin' safe. We got places ta be!"

I helped him to his feet and watched him run back to the car and pull the radio. I looked around just in case someone decided to jump us. Even though I had gone off the radar, being with this officer put me in a lot of danger and possibly put him in more.

"I'm going to have to ask you to give me the gun," Officer Blake said as he approached me.

"Why?" I asked. "We got more important thin's ta worry 'bout! The city is bein' blown ta hell and yer gonna be bothered by me havin' a gun? I ain't no saint, Officer. Ya ain't gotta worry 'bout me missin' a sure shot."

He just stared at me for a moment. "Go hotwire the nearest car. We've got to get the Commissioner out of the hospital now."

I sighed as I handed him the gun and went to a rather new Lincoln. After popping the hood, disabling practically everything and rewiring a couple of places, the car was ready to go.

"I'm driving," he said as I got in the drivers seat.

"You?" I chuckled. "Ya flipped the last car. I'm drivin'."

He jumped into the passenger seat and I floored it.

"Yer gonna have ta give me directions," I told him. "I ain't visited no hospital yet."

"Turn here. Shi-"

I guess I turned too fast for him because he immediately put his seatbelt on.

"Ya know, that'll do ya more harm than good," I told him. "And it definitely won' help with me drivin'. I sure as hell can kill ya faster with it on than without it."

"I'll take my chances," he said. "What are you doing on this side of town?"

"What do ya mean?" I asked as I quickly turned right, cutting another car off.

"Alfred said you would be in Chinatown all day."

"Obviously he lied," I said simply. "There's a lot goin' on, kid. I ain't got the right mind ta explain it all right now. I ain't exactly fond of drivin' and I gotta get yet directions as well."

I glanced when I saw him touch my bag. "I wouldn' touch that if I were ya."

"Why?" He asked as he put it back down.

"There be some sorta tranquilizer in there. I ain't figured out what I'm gonna use it for, but I'm gonna use it."

The car skidded to a stop. He handed me his pistol while picking up a shotgun from the floor. I wanted the bigger gun, but I didn't say anything as I grabbed my bag and followed him inside, ready for anything and everything.


	9. I Can't Regret

The explosion must have knocked out the hospital's power because it was dark. While he was taking glimpses, I was carefully examining the area. Then we heard gunshots and screams. He took off and I followed behind him, hoping he wouldn't be stupid enough to jump in the line of fire. What was worse were the doctors and nurses in the way. I pushed them away, shoving them to the ground growling quiet demands for them to stay down.

I jumped into a room when a gun when off. Peeking around the corner, I searched for the gunman. Officer Blake was still heading toward the Commissioner's room. I saw the barrel of a shot gun and fired a shot at the man. A nurse screamed as the bullet went through the man's neck.

Something cold touched the back of my neck, "Big mistake girly."

"Aye, ya did screw up pretty bad."

I fired a shot into the man's foot then slammed him against the wall and put another bullet in his head. I picked up his shotgun and holstered 9mm. Peeking out again, I saw Officer Blake with the Commissioner.

"And Officer Blake told me ya weren' gonna be in the field for a while. Ya look better than the last time I saw ya," I grinned as I rested the shotgun on my shoulder, keeping the pistol in my hand.

"Why are you covered in blood?" The Commissioner asked.

"Cause I put a bullet in someone's head," I said oblivious to why he was so shocked.

"Is there something you need to tell me?" The Commissioner asked.

"Oh, aye," I smiled. "'Fraid now ain't the best time. Let's get ya somewhere safe."

"I usually don't give my detectives dating advice, but you should hold onto her, Blake." The Commissioner said as I looked down a hallway.

"Ya didn' tell me ya were a detective now!" I exclaimed as we exited the hospital. People were running around like psychos, screaming and such.

After helping the Commissioner get into the car, I got in the drivers seat and turned the key to a freshly stolen vehicle. "I'ma need directions, Detective."

I drove slower than I had before reaching his apartment safely. We hid the Commissioner as we got him in. We would have to take care of him before we could do anything. Helping him lay down on the detective's couch, I draped a blanket over him and sighed. "Do ya know where he lives?" I asked Detective Blake.

"Yeah, why?"

"He's gonna need clothes. Can' be wearin' hospital gowns 'til this is over."

"What about you?" He asked as he grabbed a dish rag and wet it then moved it over my face. "You're covered in blood."

"I'm decent lookin'," I told him. "Commissioner won' have a good reputation if he's walkin' 'round nip and all."

"You can't stay in that until this is over. We don't know how long it will take."

"Fine," I sighed. "I'll get clothes, alright?"

"Alone?"

"'Course. Ya gotta stay here and take care of the Commissioner. Don'cha be worryin' 'bout me. Ain't nothin' gonna happen."

He didn't look pleased with the news, but gave me the address to the Commissioner's apartment. When I got in the car, despite the static, I could still hear a voice.

"Gotham, take control… take control of your city. This is the instrument of your liberation! Identify yourself to the world," he demanded.

"Dr. Leonid Pavel, nuclear physicist," the man replied timidly.

"And what… what is this?" The man asked.

"It's a fully primed, nuclear bomb with a blast radius of six miles," Dr. Pavel admitted, clearly ashamed of the description. I felt a brace of panic in my heart as I continued to drive.

"And who is capable of disarming such a device?" The man asked.

"Only me," the nuclear physicist replied.

"Only you," the man repeated to make sure all of us understood. "Thank you, good doctor."

I heard a terrible crack. It was faint, but loud enough to let me know something had happened.

"Now, this bomb is ours," the man said. "This bomb is mobile, and the identity of the triggerman is a mystery. For one of you holds the detonator. Now, we come here not as conquerors, but as liberators, to return control of this city to the people. And at the first sign of interference from the outside world, or from those people attempting to flee, this anonymous Gothamite, this unsung hero, will trigger the bomb. For now martial law is in effect. Return to your homes, hold your families close, and wait. Tomorrow you claim what is rightfully yours."

I put the car in park and walked into the Commissioner's apartment. When I opened the door, I heard a gun go off. Looking at the busted up door then the masked man standing in front of me, I closed the door with a sigh. The man was shaking beyond belief.

"Don' play with guns," I told him as I pulled the 9mm out and shot him in the knee.

He screamed and fell to the floor. Moving around him, I explored the Commissioner's small home a bit before grabbing clothes and shoving them into a duffle bag. When I was finished, I walked back to the man that was still on the ground, holding his knee and seething in pain.

"Ya picked a bad time ta try and rob someone, lad," I said as I opened the door. "The whole city'll be shuttin' down soon. Might wanna find a friend or somethin' ta help ya out."

I pulled him to the door and kicked him down the steps then closed the door behind me with a whistle. Now that I had the Commissioner's clothes, I would have to keep my word to the detective and go home to get clothes.

The drive home was long and tiring. People were running through the streets and driving like psychopaths. Finally, I made it home and walked through the front door. The house was pitch black when I closed the door.

"Da!" I called. My voice echoed through the hollow halls. After a moment of no reply, I shrugged it off and headed toward my room. Even in the darkness, I could see clearly, for the most part. With all my nerves on edge, it was almost like I could sense when things were nearby.

Opening the door to my room, I winced at the sudden sunlight, but continued on to grab clothes and shove them into a suitcase.

"I thought you had left me."

I looked up to see my father standing there, buttoning up his shirt while Miranda Tate stood behind him, wearing one of his shirts.

"Nah," I said as I closed the case. "Seems ya had nice company though."

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"Outta here," I replied. "The city is gettin' blown ta hell and now there's a nuclear bomb on the streets. I ain't gonna stay here ta watch the show."

"You'll be safer here," my father tried to argue.

"Da, I can' leave John," I told him. Thank God I remembered that detective's name. "Ya know he ain't gonna be leavin' the city."

He sighed and nodded as he moved out of my way. "I'm happy for you. Where's your car?"

"It blowed up," I replied.

Wordlessly, I wandered through the dark until I found the entrance again and went back to the car I had stolen.

"So you stole someone else's car?" My father asked.

"Aye," I grinned as I threw my bag into the backseat. "If crime can be done, why not do it?"

"You're dating a police officer," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Eh, he'll understand."

With that, I got in the car and drove off. When I finally got back to the detective's place, he was in a panic.

"What's wrong?" I asked him as I grabbed his arms to keep him from pacing more.

"Everything!" He yelled. "There is a nuclear bomb out there! The Commissioner is in bad shape! We can't do this, Gatsby! Not without Batman."

"We're gonna have ta find a way, Detective," I told him. "I ain't so sure he'll be comin' again."

He looked like a child whose dreams had been crushed. Like telling him Santa didn't exist.

I gently held his face, letting my thumb brush over his smooth cheek, "Calm down, John. We can do this."

His black eyes showed how much hope he had lost. "I don't think we can."

"Where'd that spirit go?" I asked as I let go of him and took a step back. "It wasn' three months ago that I met a young officer that bled pride in his job as a cop. It didn' fade when ya became a detective, did it?"

"No," he replied. "It's the reason I became a detective."

"Aye," I smiled. "And a damn fine one you'll be. Now, if ya'll excuse me, I'd like ta not smell like a corpse anymore."

"Gatsby?"

I looked at him. "Aye?"

"How do you know how to do all that stuff? Hotwire a brand new car? Shoot someone in the head? How can you do that and not flinch?"

"We can' all be saints, Detective," I told him. "We sure as hell can try ta find redemption, but it ain't very often we find someone willin' ta listen and try ta understand."

I went to the bathroom and took a quick shower to rinse off the blood and brain matter from my exciting trip to the hospital. I was exhausted. Once I got dressed again, I went to the living room where the Commissioner was still sleeping and the detective was watching tv. He was watching the news.

"It ain't good for yer soul," I said as I sat at the kitchen table, brushing things away so I could look at the files I had stolen and tinker with the variety of things I had stolen.

"Why won't people listen?" He asked.

"Listen ta what?" I asked as I turned a page in the file.

"Listen to what you have to say."

I should have seen that coming. "I ain't never been anyone's kid. Put second ta sports cars and diamonds. I had ta raise m'self, in a way. That was 'til I turned thirteen. I met a man named Barsad. I thought he was just incredible. I thought he was the leader of a gang. He took me in, taught me how ta fight the way he was taught. How ta put all yer hate inta each fight. Every fight was ta be considered a fight for yer life. I had ta learn ta fight in darkness and silence. I wasn' allowed ta show mercy. He engraved that inta my mind. Don' be afraid of killin' no one. I never really got over the habits he taught me."

"He...taught you how to kill?"

"Aye. I ain't never killed no one til today. I've stole and been arrested for assault, but it ain't never been serious."

"It doesn't bother you that you killed someone?"

"I can' let it. Regret ain't gonna help us."

I rubbed my eyes and continued looking at the files. "What is this?"

"Secrets of Wayne Enterprises," I replied. "I doubt there will be anythin' in here ta help."

I looked up at the dismal officer. "John, are ya alright?"

"I...don't know."

"Change inta somethin' more comfortable. Ya ain't gotta be all professional lookin'."

He sighed as he stood up and started unbuttoning his shirt right there. I raised an eyebrow, but went back to looking at the file. Nothing was making sense. It was just lines on a paper. I closed my eyes and rested my head on the file. There was no way I could concentrate. I was too tired. Figuring out the secrets of the business would just have to wait until my brain was working.


	10. Taking Back Gotham

I yawned. I didn't want to get up, even if I was on the ground. I was so tired.

"Wake up, darling," someone said.

I groaned some but pushed myself up only to find myself face to face Barsad. He had a crooked smirk and his blue eyes were gleaming. My breath was taken when he kissed me. "I was wondering when you would wake up."

I ignored him as I stood up, looking around. "Where am I?"

"You don't remember?" Barsad asked. "You joined us. You wanted to help Gotham be free."

I could hear chaos happening all around me. There were explosions, screams, and gunshots. I had joined this? For some reason, I wanted to, but I had other things to worry about.

"Where is the Commissioner?" I asked him.

"You don't have to worry about him. He's been taken care of."

"Taken care of?" I repeated.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Would you like to see him?" He ran his finger over my cheek. "You've always been one for a personal touch rather than letting someone else do it for you."

I followed him down some stairs and immediately recognized the area. It was the underground garage at the manor. There were people chained to the walls, some no longer moving, but all naked and vulnerable.

When he stopped walking, I could clearly see the Commissioner. His aging body was stretched to its limits and his shoulders were disfigured from the strain of coming out of their sockets. His head was hung as he stayed sitting there.

"Commissioner?" I called.

What was wrong with my voice? Why did I sound so cruel?

The head detective looked up, his tired dark eyes staring at me. "Why, Ms. Wayne?"

I smirked as I crouched in front of him. "Because, Commissioner, what you call justice and what justice truly is are two different things. It's time to set everything right in Gotham. And that's what we're here to do."

I chuckled darkly as I stood up.

Why wasn't I helping him? Why hadn't I killed Barsad?

I could feel tears stinging my eyes, but it didn't blur my vision or sway my actions. I pulled a gun and put a bullet right in the Commissioner's head.

Barsad chucked darkly behind me, "You've always been to the point. C'mon. Bane wants to fill you in."

I followed him out of the garage and found a car waiting. One of those armored cars from the place in Wayne Enterprises. As the car zoomed by, I didn't feel sick. I felt invigorated. As we flew down the streets, Barsad destroyed everything that got in our way, even children were mere speed bumps.

Why was I letting this happen? Why was I not screaming? Why hadn't I killed Barsad?!

The car came to a stop and I climbed out, following the man into the city hall. It was the courthouse. I didn't recognize the judge, but I did recognize the man in the chair. Detective Blake.

"That's enough for now," a muffled voice said silencing the room. "We have a new judge for this man."

I walked up to the Detective. He stared at me with fear in his tired eyes. "My, my Detective. Ya've fallin' quite a bit since last we met. Where did that passion go?" I mocked. "Ya used ta be such an influence. Ya still believed in the Batman. The people don' trust him no more! And yet, ya kept tryin' ta bring the fraud back. Why?"

"You betrayed us," he growled. "You betrayed us and your father!"

"What father?" I laughed. "Ya can' call a man that wasn' even sure I was his my father!" I grabbed his face, still smiling. "John, ya know the truth. Ya knew i's gonna turn on ya. Ya had yer chance ta stop me." I put the gun to his head. "I can' let ya be gettin' in the way." The terror in his eyes and begging for me to not do this made me laugh. "Let me tell ya one thin', John. Better me than them. I'm much quicker ta pull the-" the gun went off. "Trigger."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to die. Why had I just done that?! What sort of words was I saying?! Why did I kill John? He was such a nice guy, and now, he was gone. Because I had killed him. My eyes stung with tears, but again my vision was not blurred and I could feel a sick smile forming on my lips.

I looked at the gun in my hands. It was covered in blood and pieces of what was part of John's destroyed head. I looked at Barsad. "Now what?"

Now what?! That's what I asked? Why was I asking that?!

"Now, we continue on with the plan. Don't worry, everything will be fine in a few months."

"Good," I replied dully as I looked at John's dead body. "I'm getting tired of this place."

I was torn apart. My body was not listening to me, but at the same time, it was. I followed Barsad out of this city hall building and found the city destroyed. There were no more skyscrapers or speeding taxis. There was no street to have speeding taxies on, only the armored cars had the capability of going over the rubble now. . They were covered in rubble and fire. There seemed to be a permanent fog around, but it was simply floating ashes and dust lingering in the air.

However, in the distance, one great building stood. Wayne Enterprises.

"Mr. Wayne can't get what he needs now," Barsad told me. "We have all the power the world could ever want."

But we weren't using it. We were waiting for time to tick away and kill us all in one massive atomic blast. One that could happen at any moment. For some reason, I was fine with that.

Being torn in two like this was making my head throb in pained confusion. Crying unshed tears made my soul tremble. How could I do this? How could I kill the Commissioner and John? How could I choose Barsad over them?

Because he was my mentor. He helped me and taught me everything I knew. We were the League of Shadows. As long as our legacy continued, our lives didn't matter. We just wanted to help the world, but the world wouldn't change unless we made it change.

And that is what we're going to do. Destroy Gotham to catch the world's attention. Maybe then, everyone would understand. Everyone was equal, though some had committed crimes. It was time to give the world a balance. The justice system stood in the way of that. We needed to eliminate them first. With the Commissioner dead and Batman nowhere to be found, the cops would easily give up. Things were fallen in place rather nicely.


End file.
